


hear at least one little song

by braigwen_s



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen, In-Universe Music, Multi, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21600865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braigwen_s/pseuds/braigwen_s
Summary: Songs in-universe, and the people that sing them.
Relationships: Lin Beifong & Mako
Kudos: 22





	1. Mako (and Lin)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Goethe.

In the evenings, when he thinks nobody's listening, Mako sings to himself. When it's very late, they'll be the few songs he remembers his parents singing. One night at his desk, it’s an old Fire Nation song, traditionally a duet.

_Oh mother, the light is burning low,_

_And I'm still off at war_

_But write to me, oh mother dear_

And then another voice joins in, soft and haunting, low and with a slight rasp,

_and I'll feel as if at home._

Lin looks at him, her eyebrows raised. Before he can process his embarrassment at being caught, or his surprise she knows she song, she’s started on the next verse:

_Oh, my dear son_

_The light burns low_

_And you're still off at war -_

A smile's creeping over Mako's face.

_I'll write to you, my mother dear -_

_I swear I still know your call_

"You're hopeless," she says, a smile crinkling her own eyes, and is shocked when Mako throws his arms around her. “Woah, boy, steady there!” she says, but strokes his hair. After a few moments, she sighs and keeps singing.

_Come with the morning light, my son_

_But now it's black as your hair_

_And we should be both abed, son –_

_But I miss you, mother fair,_ rasps Mako. They never speak of it again.


	2. Iroh I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iroh, alone in his room with his daydreams.

These days, there are just four things that Iroh lives for. Tea, his nephew Zuko, a desire to make things right, and music. Alone in his Palace rooms, he hums to himself. It’s broad and tuneless, and he misses Lu Ten’s clear bright voice blindingly, but it’s something. It’s always old songs he finds himself singing, these days, songs of autumn and not summer.

_Oh, once I knew a maid,_

_Or perhaps it’s more that she knew me,_

_But I took my maid traversing,_

_Or perhaps it’s more that she took me._

Heh. He’s heard life referred to as a woman, and Agni knew he could never have predicted where she’d taken him. That much was true, at least.

_Oh, once I kissed a maid,_

_Or perhaps it’s more that she kissed me,_

_But I found myself out in the hayrolls,_

_Or perhaps it’s more that she found me._

His hand shakes, but he keeps singing. If something didn’t remind him of his son, it reminded him of his trials in the Spirit World. He should be used to that by now.

_Oh, once I lost a maid,_

_Or perhaps it’s more that she lost me,_

_But I._

_But I._

He makes a fist, and his robe scalds – cursing, he takes deep breaths and calms himself. And then he finishes the song.

_But I mourned long in the dark,_

_Or perhaps it’s more that she mourned me._

He doesn’t like leaving thing unfinished. Yes, that’s one thing he’s got going for him. Not that he hadn’t left – well. Anyway.


End file.
